The Magical Persons Removal Agency
by GrindelBear
Summary: Muggles aren't capable of using magic. Or are they? A mysterious Muggle agency known as the M.P.R.A. trains Hunters to capture wizards and harness magic.


_I'm thinking about incorporating this into a larger fic, but I don't even know if I'm going to continue with it. I just thought it was a weird idea that would be cool to write about. _

_This is set in the future after Harry and friends defeated Voldemort. I always imagined it took place around next gen, when his children are in school. Hyacinth Dursley is Dudley's daughter btw and Caligulus is somehow distantly related to Snape_

A hole-in-the-wall café was not what they had expected. Caligulus muttered under his breath as they approached, questioning if they had the right place. He and his younger partner Hyacinth were used to surprises from their boss, but even so he still managed to confuse them more than occasionally. They slid into the café to find no one sitting inside except him, an elderly man with a walking cane leaned up against a wall. His eyes were sunken in, heavy-lidded orbs clinging to his face. Gray hair hung to his skull, thinning into strings that just barely touched his shoulders. He recognized them instantly from inside the gloom.

"Mr. Snape and Ms. Dursley," he said, "I was beginning to wonder when you would show up."

"We apologize," Caligulus Snape murmured, unbuttoning his coat, "It was difficult to locate this address." The old man did not seem angry and merely stood up, gesturing for them to follow him. They followed, walking through the empty restaurant. They went up a flight of stairs and down a dimly lit hallway until they reached a strange bronze tube-like elevator inside a brick wall. The café was far too small for an elevator to logically be present; Caligulus immediately sneered, his eyes narrowing at the sight of it.

"Is this _magic_?" he hissed, sounding as though the word was rather unpleasant. The elderly man shook his head, not turning to look at Caligulus.

"No," he said, "This is my creation. Come, there is much you must both see." The old man hobbled to the elevator and opened some kind of numbers panel. He inserted a code and Caligulus and Hyacinth waited silently, a ding sounding off from the elevator. All three of them shuffled inside. The doors to the elevator closed.

"What you are about to experience may be uncomfortable." They waited. The tube-like structure wrenched suddenly, and both Caligulus and Hyacinth felt themselves lose balance. Air blasted through with a hiss, a high-pitched whistling resonating within the small space. Without further warning, the tube structure dropped from the brick wall, gaining vicious momentum. Caligulus and Hyacinth felt as though their stomachs were suddenly in their throats. Their surroundings blurred. All of their senses were overcome by the horrible whistling, the terrible tugging, the weightlessness of the elevator as it plummeted.

It eventually stopped. Caligulus and Hyacinth were awkwardly holding on to one another, squished against one side of the elevator in some futile attempt to keep standing straight. They looked at each other, realizing their closeness, and then parted with embarrassment. Their boss was standing unfazed, and without so much as a glance he continued to hobble, leaving them to gather themselves accordingly. In front of them was a white hall, a thin passage way, sealed and circular. They followed once more, eyeing their surroundings curiously.

"Welcome to the European M.P.R.A. headquarters," the old man said as he approached a thick metal door. He pulled out a card from his coat and swiped a side panel, the door unlatching moments later. Caligulus stopped for a moment. His eyes were glinting, and he seemed to swell with awe at the old man's words.

"S-sir," he said with a slight stammer, "Surely we are too inexperienced…?"

"Nonsense," the old man croaked, finally turning around, "You are among my most skilled trainees." Caligulus straightened alertly, looking like an attentive hawk with his hooked nose. Hyacinth stood silent, appearing impartial.

"But sir…it is a privilege…"

"Indeed. One that you have both rightfully earned." Their boss pushed the heavy door open, seeming stronger than his appearance suggested. They went down a few more hallways, reaching an observation balcony protected by thick glass and metal, extending over a spectacular view below them. Peering down, they saw a vast stretch of machines and workers, a city-sized factory. Items were getting manufactured, chambers were filled with strange lustrous lights. Caligulus squinted and saw tubes cascading the ceiling, pumping odd multi-colored liquid, off to be processed in some way he did not fully understand. His expression was one of utter fanaticism; Hyacinth's was a cross between anxiety and astonishment.

"You know what you are looking at, of course." The old man was meandering behind them, stiffly pacing next to the glass. Hyacinth turned around.

"Extraction," she said briskly. The old man crinkled a lipless smile at her.

"You are right and you are wrong my dear. These headquarters do contain an Extraction facility. But what you are looking at is the next step: the manufacturing of our products after Extraction is complete."

"I would like to witness an Extraction," Caligulus murmured hungrily, his face pushed up against the glass. The old man raised a frail hand.

"Yes, yes, my boy, soon," he said, his voice firm, "First, let me show you both something that might interest you." He jerked his head to a door on their right, making his way towards it. He opened it with another keycard swipe and revealed an office inside, seating himself in a chair behind a desk. Caligulus and Hyacinth sat themselves in chairs across from him, listening with full attention.

The old man reached into one of the drawers in his desk. They watched as he pulled out what appeared to be a gun, a hand pistol, small and ordinary. He placed it on the surface of his desk.

"Tell me what this is," he ordered in a soft voice.

"A gun," Hyacinth said quickly, before Caligulus could speak, "But only in appearance, I take it?" The old man nodded.

"Yes, it seems to be a gun. A plain, boring, simple gun. A—what would they call it?—a useless Muggle toy, perhaps—anyways, it is in the shape of a gun. It is what we as regular humans fear and utilize and cling to on a daily basis. Our weapon of choice. But as you are correct, it is not, in fact, actually a gun." He tossed it suddenly at Hyacinth, who reached out and caught it reflexively. Smiling, the old man beckoned her.

"Arrange the slots," he said, "To red colors." It took a moment, but Hyacinth realized that there was a dial filled with colored slots attached to the gun. It was accompanied by a switch. She fiddled with the switch until the slots in the dial were all red.

"Fire at your companion," the old man ordered. Hyacinth's green eyes widened and she turned to look at Caligulus. She hesitated.

"Sir," Caligulus began to protest. The old man raised his hand once more.

"You will not be harmed, I assure you." Hyacinth peered down at the gun in her hand.

"Why must she fire at me?" he demanded. The old man did not speak to him again. Instead he focused on Hyacinth, staring right at her.

"Do as I say, it is merely a demonstration." Hyacinth continued to hesitate, looking over at Caligulus and then back at the old man. The old man's expression was tranquil, sincere…she acted within a split second of deliberation, trusting the consequences to be minor.

There was a loud _BANG, _but no bullets exploded from the gun. Instead there was a flash of scarlet, a bolt of color, and it streaked across the room, hitting Caligulus squarely in the chest. He launched backwards out of his chair, smashing into the wall, his black hair flying in his face. The light disappeared a second later, the room going silent. Caligulus was motionless, his head hanging limply. Hyacinth was appalled, leaping up on to her feet.

"You said it wouldn't hurt him!" she shouted. She did not care how important the man who hired them was, she could not believe what she had just done…

"He is only stunned. Surely you have learned enough about witches and wizards to recognize-"

"I know! The stupefying charm!" Hyacinth fumed, glaring at the old man, "It still could have hurt him!"

"I would not be foolish enough to allow you to stun him if I did not think he could handle it." Hyacinth opened her mouth but then proceeded to close it, her eyes flashing dangerously. She was angry, but she was still his subordinate. The old man leaned back into his chair, calmly glancing over at her barely conscious companion huddled to the side of the room.

"What is this…thing?" Hyacinth said in a disgusted tone, tossing the gun back on to his desk as if it were a dirty diaper.

"That is a wand. A special, special kind of wand."

"A wand?" she echoed, "Not possible."

"Oh, but it is."

"How?"

"Through Extraction on hunted subjects, we are able to create such miracles. A wand for people like you and me. Those of a…lesser existence." Hyacinth raised her eyebrows. She looked at the gun again, and the old man grasped it with one hand. He held it up, another smile etched on his cracked and weary face.

"Wonderful, isn't it? In everything there is science, even in this. The wand chooses the wizard. Wands can't choose the ordinary, the mundane, those without the genetic predisposition…apparently this substance, this thing called magic, it is not a generous resource. But there are ways to find it…ways to harness it, however obscure. So people like you and me and your friend can use it, what we have been denied. The methods may be unethical, may even be considered nefarious. But alas, a price must be paid to those that do not share this truly extraordinary gift!"

Hyacinth was expressionless. She stood very still, only turning her head to look at Caligulus after the old man had paused.

"Every new Hunter gets one," he said, placing the gun back on the desk, "Once they have captured my eye with their potential. You and your friend have managed well in your training. That is enough to allow me to give you guns—wands— of your very own." He nodded at the gun, intending for her to take it. Hyacinth stared at it for a couple seconds.

"Sir, what is the point of fighting magic if we use it ourselves?"

"Magic can really only be fought with magic. It is disappointing, but true. A Hunter's methods can only go so far until magic needs be used out of necessity." There was a pause.

"Are you going to show us how you created this?"

"Of course. That is up next. But first, take the weapon. Give this one to your friend as well." He placed another gun on the desk. Hyacinth finally picked both of them up, hearing Caligulus moan from across the room.

"Yes, you two will make fine Hunters," the old man mused, almost to himself, "I can already tell." He leaned back in his chair, the strangest, most pensive expression on his face. Hyacinth could scarcely believe the objects in her hands, and she turned to look at her companion again, who was slowly getting to his feet. She wondered, perhaps, what she had gotten herself into. But the old man's expression, the power that she had just utilized, it all told her the same thing; she was at the point where there was no turning back.


End file.
